


Caught in the Act

by MakeItMagnificent (orphan_account)



Category: Queer as Folk (UK)
Genre: Doctor Who References, Drama, Humour, M/M, Post-Series, Romance, Slash, Star Wars References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 16:59:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4145568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/MakeItMagnificent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stuart and Vince have been together for a while and things have been getting difficult...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caught in the Act

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to QDS for her beta review and her enormous patience with me when she has to repeat herself YET AGAIN about how POV works. ;)

_The bedside clock glowed 1.55 am and two men grunted noisily in the bed.  
  
'There Vince, just there! That's it, there. No, round a bit.' A flash of arse before the man on top pulled the sheet back over.  
  
'Is that better?' A voice tinged with irritation.  
  
'No, slide it round a bit - '  
  
'For God sake Vince,  just do what  he says and put Larry out of his misery.'  
  
A voice from the shadows. A cool unreadable voice. An Irish accent...  
_  
  
Vince squealed. Larry hissed a quiet 'Fuck!' Both men grabbed wildly at the covers, stretching and pulling them in a manner not out of place in a old black and white comedy. As furious whispering and fumbling continued, Stuart sighed and switched on the main overhead light.  
  
The Irishman was leaning against his bedroom door. He was wearing a suit, showing all evidence of a hard day's work with an untucked shirt and a loosened tie. Holding a mug of coffee, he looked relaxed as he carried on drinking. Vince popped his head above the duvet covers, squinting under the sudden harsh light.  
  
'Stuart!' he gasped, his voice flooded with shock. 'What you doing here?'  
  
Stuart pulled an exaggerated astonished face.  
  
'Um. I live here Vince. It's my flat... my bedroom... and that is my bed.' With each explanation, he indicated with a wave of his hand where he meant.  
  
Placing his mug carefully on a nearby chest of drawers, Stuart slowly went around the room picking up Larry's clothes. Vince watched Stuart, mesmerized. Stuart's face appeared blank but people who knew him well enough would say they could detect a dangerous hint of a sneer.  
  
'Stuart. I can explain. I thought you weren't coming back tonight, but - ' Words tumbled out of Vince as his mind clamoured to organise them fast enough.  'I didn't mean that, I mean, I don't normally do this - I never do this! This hasn't happened - '  
  
'Vince, I'd better go. You can come with me, you don't have to stay - ' Larry spoke for the first time, just managing to snatch up a t-shirt before Stuart got to it. He avoided making any acknowledgement of Stuart's presence in the room.  
  
Stuart straightened up, his arms full of Larry's clothes. 'Get out of my bed!' he suddenly roared, hushing both men to silence as they huddled in his bed.  
  
Larry quickly got up while making heroic attempts at struggling into his t-shirt while hiding his genitals with a pillow. He was an average sized man, with average mousy brown hair and an entirely average forgettable face.  
  
Clutching Larry's clothes with one arm, Stuart snatched the pillow from him. Dressed only in the rumpled t-shirt, Larry bravely straightened his back and glanced briefly at Stuart before looking back at Vince.  
  
'Are you coming?'  
  
Stuart and Larry stared at Vince. Vince dropped his eyes and gave a small shake of his head.  
  
Larry made a grab for his clothes. But Stuart was quicker, opening the window and tossing the clothes out in one lightning move. Conveniently for Stuart, less so for Larry, it had been raining hard all evening.  
  
All thoughts of dignity forgotten, Larry made a dash for the bedroom door, yanked it open, ran through the apartment and disappeared. By now Vince's sweaty skin now felt cold and clammy. He could see Stuart standing at the window watching intently as Larry cursed and scrabbled about for his clothes outside. Seeing someone hopping about trying to get wet jeans and socks on would normally be funny but Stuart wasn't laughing. His face had lost the blank expression of a few minutes earlier and was now taut with a barely contained anger. When all was finally quiet outside, Stuart slowly turned to face Vince who was still cowering in the bed.  
  
'Why HIM?' No preamble, straight to the point.  
  
'Because he was there.'  
  
'Fuck does that mean?'  
  
'You're always working,' Vince mumbled. 'When you come home, you're offhand, or moaning cuz I haven't done something or bought the food you want.' Vince's voice became clearer. 'You're not funny any more and we don't watch stuff or go out. Sometimes I don't even - ' Vince paused. 'Sometimes I don't even _like_ you.' Though his body felt stiff and rigid with tension and his head throbbed, the words wouldn't stop, pouring out of him now they'd started. 'And we haven't had a shag in ages. Larry, he watches stuff with me, he's sweet and he likes me and he fancies me. Here, there's nothing. And, then your son ... your son even doesn't like me!' Vince sniffed, eyes filling with tears as he held Stuart's gaze. He'd never seen him look so tired, angry and hurt all at once. But he couldn't take back what he said and felt some small sense of relief that the words were out of his head, that he'd finally actually said them.   
  
Stuart blinked and his face became blank once again. He blinked again, slowly, pulled his mouth into a tight line and answered simply, 'Fuck off then.'  
  
And before Vince could say anything, Stuart was gone.  
  
***  
  
Vince sat in his mother's living room, staring into space. It was lunchtime Friday and Vince had skipped work, pleading illness. Alex was talking to him, telling him a long elaborate story to which he paid little attention, as Hazel came in with two bowls of soup.  
  
'So where's his Lordship?' Hazel smiled as she passed the bowls to the two men. Vince took his soup, giving her no answer or word of thanks. Frowning, she left the room to get their plates of buttered bread.  
  
'So, where is he?' Hazel repeated her question as she put their bread on the table.  
  
Vince stared at his mum, excuses for his absence all thought out and ready on the tip of his tongue. But he'd learned as he'd gotten older that he was a rubbish liar with a face that revealed his soul, so he simply replied, 'I don't know.'  
  
He said this so solemnly that even Alex looked up from his tomato soup in concern.  
  
'Vince?'  
  
'I don't know where he is,' Vince answered stiffly. 'He left. Last night. We... had a row. He didn't take his phone.'  
  
'He'll be back later, when the little bastard gets hungry,' Hazel said. Despite her kind smile, Vince knew she was worried. Her raised eyebrow when he and Alex had arrived told him she'd noticed his unwashed hair and unsmiling demeanour.  
  
'No. Mum, I ...' Vince sighed. He gazed about the familiar room, remembering the many happy hours spent there with Stuart over the years. He stared down into his bowl of soup putting off the inevitable moment of confession. Finally: 'I slept with Larry. Stuart caught us.'  
  
Alex and Hazel stared at each other with wide eyes though Vince didn't think this was a shock to either of them. He knew he'd let slip little pieces of evidence of his unhappiness over the past few months - about Stuart never being there or being unpleasant or distant when he was. She'd felt sorry for them both because Stuart worked so hard and she felt guilty that she accepted his money now things were tight with the recession.  
  
'I don't know what to do, it's just completely fucked up.' Vince ran a hand through his limp hair.  
  
After a pause Alex put down his spoon and pushed away his half eaten soup. He stood up. 'Right. Okay. Come on Vince, we're going to go find him.' he said. 'I _always_ find ways to find people...' he finished with a dramatic flourish and what Vince assumed was meant to be a reassuring smile...  
  
  
_I don't even like you!_  
  
  
The beat of nineties disco pounded dully through the wall of the men's toilets, making the cubicle Stuart Alan Jones found himself in vibrate gently. The toilet stank, with shit smeared up the walls and piss around his expensive shoes. The suit trousers he still wore from two days ago had been roughly pulled down. He was being taken hard up the arse by someone, Stuart had no idea who. Despite his inebriation, habit had ensured a condom covered cock. Stuart giggled to himself, imagining random condom covered cocks dancing to disco music. He winced in pain then. In his drug confused mind, he was still very aware that this particular condom covered cock had been lax in the lube department. He giggled again, discomfort in his arse forgotten as he bent awkwardly to take another sniff of coke that was waiting in a discreet line on the back of the toilet.  
  
He had no concept of time of day. Daylight was streaming through the window but he had no idea if it was morning, afternoon or the evening. The last two days had been a blur of drinking and taking stuff he couldn't name and trying to push all thoughts of Vince's words out of his mind, working hard to erase that image of Vince cowering in his bed, their bed, with another man.  
  
***  
  
Vince and Alex sat in the jeep staring at the shabby rundown building. Its black door was covered with peeling posters and chipped paint. A wonky sign reading 'Deadly Desire' hung above the door and there was a quiet pound of music coming from within.  
  
'Well,' Alex began, 'I have it on reliable authority that his lordship has been seen in here. Ready?'  
  
Vince didn't move.  
  
'One crap bit of sex for me and now everything's fucked.'  
  
Alex grinned. 'That bad was it? When this is all over, I shall want to know _all_ the details.'  
  
Vince glared at Alex and continued with what he was saying. 'I'm such a fucking fool Alex. I just don't know what to say to him.'  
  
Alex put a comforting hand on his leg. 'Don't say anything. Let's just get in, grab him, get out. And after three days on the binge, he'll not be in any fit state for a chat.'  
  
'But Alex, I shagged someone else, then I blamed him and I told him I didn't like him and then, like a twat, popped an 'Alfie doesn't like me either' on the end!'  
  
'Vince. No sense was going to be spoken by either of you at that time. Don't be too hard on yourself. Come on.'  
  
Vince took a deep shuddering breath and opened the jeep door.  
  
***  
  
Stuart had barely inhaled more coke before there was a pounding on the door. It was shoved open and the noise as it whacked against the wall sent his head spinning. There was shouting and pushing. The condom covered cock pulled abruptly out of him and he found himself yanked upright. Stuart struggled to focus as his face was grasped firmly between two warm hands. The voice belonging to those hands shouted his name at him.  
  
'Stuart, it's me. I'm taking you home.' His voice, the smell of his minty breath, his eyes and his touch finally broke through Stuart's dulled senses and he recognised Vince standing before him. Vince tugged Stuart's trousers up like he was a small child, tucked his shirt in and dragged him from the toilet cubicle. Stuart's jumbled mind was simply processing the words 'condom, cock, coke, Vince', over and over. He became aware that two people were helping him out of the pub, finally putting a name to the other person - Alex.  
  
Back at their flat, Stuart was firmly manouvered into their bathroom and propped up against the wall. He'd spent the journey back half asleep and firmly strapped into the front seat of what smelt like his jeep. A large bin bag had been spread open onto his lap by the ever-fastidious Vince with instructions to use it if he felt any urge to puke. Head lolling against the headrest, Stuart turned to gaze at Vince with half focused eyes, but Vince's impassive face, concentrated on driving, had told him nothing. Sometimes jolted fully awake by bumps and braking, he then almost instantly fell back into a doze.  
  
'Do you need me to help, you know, get him undressed?' Alex asked.  
  
'Fuck off, Alex,' Stuart slurred with a smile. 'You just wanna see my cock that everyone talks about.' He giggled.  
  
'Stuart, you shut up. Thanks, Alex, I'll can deal with him from here.'  
  
'Okay, you behave then big boy,' said Alex trying to make his friends laugh - but Stuart was too inebriated to appreciate his joke and Vince wasn't laughing either.  
  
***  
  
Vince started to run the bath. Straightening his stiff back for a moment, he caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror - it bore the pale and drained appearance of someone who'd only slept fitfully for the past three nights. He smiled sadly at himself. He ached to slip into the bath and lose himself in its comfort and warmth. He sighed. He made quick work of removing Stuart's clothes, mouth curling in distaste at their appearance and smell and made a mental note to shove them into the rubbish.  
  
'Do you want my body, Vince?' Stuart leered, hips swaying provocatively.  
  
'No. Not particularly. You smell like shit in a cowshed.'  
  
Ooooh Vincie, you say the sweetest things.'  
  
Vince ignored him. The bath had filled by this time and without wanting to dwell too much on what it might mean, he'd used his best bath products to soften and fragrance the water and produce a mountain range of bubbles. He manhandled Stuart's slim body into it without difficulty.  
  
He sponged Stuart all over, resolutely ignoring his purrs of pleasure and squeaks of discomfort as he carefully washed his groin and bottom. All clean in warm and delicious smelling water, Stuart soon fell asleep and Vince took the opportunity to wash and condition his hair. Vince finally allowed the tears to fall, tears he'd held firmly in check since the night with Larry. He loved doing this job, he adored Stuart's hair and he hadn't done this task for such a long time. Stuart was always too busy. While he dozed, Vince also shaved off Stuart's stubble. He secretly thought that Stuart with a bit of stubble was as hot as fuck but he certainly wasn't going to tolerate this two day old dirty binge growth.  
  
All finished, Vince pulled the plug out, woke Stuart without ceremony and made him stand. He ignored sleepy grumbles about being cold and vigorously towelled him dry, illiciting more half awake lewd suggestions as Vince thoroughly dried his genitals. 'Shut up Stuart,' he said without rancour. After dressing Stuart in the pyjamas he'd already put on the radiator to warm, Vince put him to bed. As he tucked him in, he paused and gazed down at this man he'd loved so hard for over half his life. He sniffed as his eyes filled again. He quickly dropped a kiss onto his lips. Stuart stirred, opened his eyes and the two men gazed at one another. Neither said a word and Vince quietly left the room.    
  
  
_I don't even like you!_  
  
  
The next morning, Stuart woke to warm sunlight filtering through the curtains. He took a deep breath as his head started pounding, but this familiar room and these familiar sheets smelled so fresh and clean and ... so comforting. He peeled open his eyes as the door was opened. Vince came in, laden with toast and coffee.  
  
'You're awake, you okay?'  
  
Stuart nodded. He pulled himself upright and gazed at Vince as the tray was placed on his lap.  
  
'I phoned your office and told them you were taking the rest of the week off.' Stuart said nothing. Vince smiled awkwardly before leaving Stuart to his breakfast. Stuart ate the toast, surprised at his hunger. He finished his coffee and got out of bed. Though his whole body felt sore, he noticed with satisfaction he was clean and in fresh pajamas. He remembered nothing of the previous night.  
  
***  
  
The two men spent the next two days in companionable silence, only speaking when necessary, punctuated with brief smiles and rather more please and thank you politeness than was normal. Knowing he didn't have to go into work, Stuart began to relax. His phone was quiet as his co-workers had been told he was ill. And as Stuart relaxed, Vince himself felt his own tension lift. One simple conversation occurred at the end of day one initiated by Stuart:  
  
'Vince. Do you want to leave?' Stuart stared at Vince as he paused in his task of putting plates in the cupboard.  
  
'No.' Pause. Vince straightened up from unloading the dishwasher and gazed back at Stuart. 'I don't.'  
  
'Okay. Good.' Without further comment, the two men carried on with their tasks.  
  
They slept together each night, laying silent and staring at the ceiling or out of the window, deep in their thoughts. One night, a half-awake Vince kissed Stuart's exposed shoulder, then rolled over asleep. Two days later, Vince woke to find Stuart's arm around his waist and warm breath on his neck. Neither men mentioned these during the day.  
  
On the third day Stuart and Vince sat together watching a TV show about all the fascinating treasures and complete rubbish people find in their attics. They watched passively without concentration or interest. Vince finally switched the TV off, turned to Stuart and took a deep breath.  
  
'Okay, I shagged some bloke and you fucked God knows what for two days. So, how many? Did you use a condom?' Sudden nerves at realising he'd started the conversation both knew they needed to have made his words come out louder than normal.  
  
Stuart smiled briefly before becoming serious. He nodded. 'Every time. There were about three, did more drinking than shagging.'  
  
'Drugs?'  
  
'Bit of coke. Just what I was using when you found me.'  
  
'Anything else?'  
  
'Nope.' Simple answers and Vince knew Stuart well enough and long enough to know they were honest answers.  
  
There was a pause and then Stuart continued,  
  
'You said you didn't like me.'  
   
'Because you were becoming humourless and it doesn't suit you. Grumpy's fine, you've always been a grumpy bastard but you were a shit recently. And working all the time, going back on promises to me and Alfie.'  
  
'I've been working so hard, time has just flown by.' Stuart smiled ruefully as he answered. 'And... I know it sounds ridiculous and really fucking hetero, but I felt I was doing it for my family, y'know, you and Alfie.'  
  
'But Stuart, it feels predictable to say, but I felt taken for granted. I want you, not the stuff you can buy me.' Vince smiled and he felt his skin heat up as he heard his own words. There was a pause as thoughts tangled and slowly untangled themselves in his mind. He frowned as he spoke again. 'I'm sorry about Larry,' he said simply.  
  
Stuart gave Vince a small smile. 'I know ... I'm sorry too.' Stuart frowned as he looked at Vince before dropping his gaze. Vince believed his 'sorry' because the word was such a rare occurrence in Stuart's vocabulary. Looking at him now, drawn and downcast, it was easy to accept his apology as genuine.  
  
'He really fancied me!' Vince continued. He hoped Stuart would appreciate a change in the tone of their serious conversation.  
  
'Blimey!' smiled Stuart.  
  
'Fuck off!'  
  
The two men gazed at each other, both smirking like schoolboys. Then Stuart's face became serious as he slowly leaned over and lightly kissed Vince on the lips.  
  
'And Larry was nice to me,' said Vince teasing Stuart back. Outwardly ignoring the kiss, inwardly Vince's stomach did a flip.  
  
'When have _you_ ever wanted _nice_?' Stuart kissed him again, his tongue leaving a swipe of moisture on Vince's lips. He quickly pulled away only to lean forward again to breathe a hot 'Twat,' in his ear and leaving Vince squirming with pleasure.  
  
'What was it like then, the sex?' Stuart continued.  
  
'Hmmm...' Vince screwed up his face in thought. 'Ponderous.'  
  
'Ponderous sex,' repeated Stuart with a broad grin. 'I've never heard sex described as 'ponderous' before.'  
  
Vince then frowned. 'And Stuart, it was a straight bar where I found you. How did you end up in a straight bar?'  
  
'No idea. Probably trying to show some straight guy the error of his ways.'  
   
'It was filthy too, really disgusting, crap all up the walls.'  
  
'Well there you go, Vince, my life is shit without you.' Stuart smiled, holding his arms wide.  
  
'You're a twat. Though annoyingly, that's probably one of the most romantic things you've ever said to me.' Unable to stop himself, Vince softly touched Stuart's mouth. Stuart captured and licked two of the fingers and Vince moaned quietly in response.  
  
With Vince's fingers still in his mouth, Stuart slipped easily over and onto Vince's lap. Pulling the fingers away, he clutched Vince's face with both hands as he kissed him hungrily. It was noisy wet kissing quickly arousing both men. If they were thinking coherently they would agree this easy frantic passion had been missing from their lives for too long.  
  
'Please Vince,' Stuart breathed into Vince's ear.  
  
'What do you want?'  
  
'Inside me. Quickly. Please.'  
  
Simple words spoke of a deep need in Stuart and Vince. Vince yanked open Stuart's pyjama top and slipped the pyjama bottoms down, leaving his bottom exposed. Stuart shivered at the chill on his bare skin and at the warmth of Vince's arms as they swept protectively up and down his back. He nuzzled Vince's neck relishing its familiar smell. Vince pulled a lube sachet from his pyjama pocket, opened it and swiftly coated his fingers. All this time, Stuart was sucking and licking his neck and nuzzling his ear. Shivering hard with pleasure, Vince knew this was going to be a fast fuck. With one finger, he gently circled Stuart's exposed hole, guessing he might still be sore from that last shag in the toilet. Stuart moaned and any discomfort he might've felt soon passed as he pushed out his arse begging for more of his lover's touch.  
  
'You want me to stop?' Vince asked, knowing the answer.  
  
'No, please ...'  
  
Vince played with his entrance, over and around and inside, his head dropping back onto the sofa loving Stuart's hot sloppy kisses on his neck. Happy now that Stuart was slippy and lubricated, Vince put more lube on his fingers and with one finger, probed further inside. Stuart pulled his head back from Vince's neck and looked directly down at him, giving Vince such a look of want and need that it made his confidence soar, his stomach flutter and his cock throb.  
   
'Oh Vince, that's so ... you do it ...' but Stuart couldn't finish his sentence as Vince sped up his pace and introduced a second finger to join the first in a firm rhythmic finger fuck. Stuart's moans became desperate. Then, slowing down the pace, Vince pulled off the rest of Stuart's pyjamas and finally managed to escape his own pyjama bottoms. Stuart's sexy moans were making him frantic with need. His whole world was now this moment and this man on top of him. Clutching Stuart's lower back, he lubed himself and as carefully as he could, trying not to rush, he pushed inside of Stuart. As Vince's cock moved further within him, Stuart groaned deeply as he got himself comfortable and soon he was writhing with lascivious abandonment. Gazing at his best friend, lover and the person who he'd thought he'd lost, Vince, in a sudden flash of thought, imagined he might actually explode. The two men clutched at each other, their moans louder until, for one torturous moment, Stuart stopped moving and pulled back,  
  
'So you still like me then, Vince?'  
  
'Oh my God, Stuart, whaaat, of course, aaaah, you twat, please, aaaaaah...'  
  
Stuart started to move again. The closeness and familiarity of the other and the fast and unrestrained pace was nirvana for both men. Holding onto one another, gripping tightly as their bodies became slick with sweat. Orgasm came fast and powerful, surging through the body and mind of first Stuart, then Vince ...  
  
  
  
_And then your son ..._ _your son doesn't even like me!_  
  
  
  
Later on in the afternoon, Alfie came round with Romey. Vince, who was in the kitchen at the time, hadn't known he was due to visit and felt himself begin to blush and sweat all over again at what he'd said to Stuart about Alfie. He was in the process of making pastry for a pie for dinner. To stop his mind from thinking and worrying about what might or might not be happening in the other room, he threw himself into concentrating hard on his cooking - intently following the recipe and then washing and wiping up afterwards until the kitchen smelt heavenly and looked pristine. But despite his best attempts to divert his thoughts, his face still burned hot, his back felt cold with sweat and his head prickled with embarrassment at what they might be talking about and whether it was about him and what they might think of him.  
  
As Vince began scrubbing at a tiny forgotten splat on the hob, he suddenly heard the front door open and shut. Seconds later, Stuart burst into the kitchen. Vince jumped and swung round to see Stuart leaning against the wall and smirking like a devil.  
  
'Vince, you are a fucking great twat.'  
  
'Humph, tell me something I don't know.'  
  
Stuart laughed. A cute sexy sound Vince had missed for so long. Stuart moved into Vince's body space, giving Vince little choice but to stop what he was doing and look directly into Stuart's smiling face.  
  
'Vince, what you said was rubbish. About him not liking you. I think he got bored at the Doctor Who exhibition, I mean once you've seen one dalek, you've seen them all, right? - ssshh!' Stuart finished as Vince took a breath and opened his mouth to retaliate. 'He's really getting into Star Wars. He wanted to see that new Star Wars film a month ago, but we both let him down, d'you remember, then the week after, you both went to that Doctor Who exhibition. He was pissed at that.' Stuart sighed, a trace of sadness in his smile. 'And I let him down as much as anybody. He's been playing up with the lesbians as well. Come 'ere.'  
  
Stuart took Vince into his arms in a hug which said more than a hundred declarations of love could ever do.  
  
***  
  
A week later, Stuart came home at precisely the time he was expected. He'd told his work partners how things were going to change from now on, he'd told one of them to 'fuck off' when they'd argued with him, they'd then thrashed out a new partnership agreement and Stuart had cut a sizeable chunk off his hours. And he'd never felt happier.  
  
Closing the front door behind him, he saw Vince and Alfie huddled deep in concentration over the coffee table. Not wanting to interrupt them, he made his way quietly to the bedroom to change. Then he smiled as he saw what they were up to, the smile threatening to escape into a giggle. His son and his best friend were deeply absorbed in the epic business of building the Lego Death Star ...  
  
  
**Epilogue**  
  
If Stuart and Vince had a Tardis and could see into the future (instead of just owning K9, adorable though he is), they'd have been thrilled (perhaps Vince a little more thrilled than Stuart) to note that, in the future, Alfie would be just as big a fan of Doctor Who as Vince and even better, all three of them would be taking a trip to New York to see the new Doctor on the Doctor Who World Tour just days before a fresh, brand spanking new series of the old show began airing ...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
